Mardi Gras
by Robinola
Summary: A different take on one of Harry's gifts, starting with year one.  Sort of a dead end, unless I get inspired.
1. Year One: Green as Grass

Disclaimer: I am not JKR, or any of her minions, or whoever else has rights to Harry Potter

Note: It would be a shocker if I wrote more on this story, it's actually the first fan fic I ever wrote, even if I wasn't posting till just now.

Year One, or Green as Grass

Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday, Carnival, the preparation for death, life's last colorful bash before the gathering darkness. A day of debauchery, for using things up, dedicated to extravagant costumes, masks to hide the men and women staggering through ordinary life. Mardi Gras, when we celebrate before the beginning of spring, knowing that a warmth greater than the colors of our blazing costumes will soon come. Mardi Gras, the day of foreign languages, lurid colors—purple, and yellow, and lastly green.

On the first warm day that spring, the grass parted to reveal a brief flash of scales as a small snake slipped out of the narrow cave mouth. Within was a large knotted mass of its brethren, just beginning to stir as the sun hit the stone. Their lithe bodies twined around each other, glided across pale skin, and wove through messy black hair. Brilliant green eyes slowly opened, perfectly matching the sleek bodies covering Harry Potter.

"Good Spring, my little brothers," he hissed, "it was wonderful to sleep among you."

"Do we who are brothers not always nest together?" came a sibilant chorus of the little creatures, "but the time has come for us to go and hunt on our own."

Harry sighed, "if only I had always slept with you." He began to slowly sit up, gradually stretching past the kinks, as the snakes slipped off his pale body.

"That is why we will always be happy to help you, nestling," the one that had remained wrapped around the boy's neck whispered into his ear.

"What do you mean, little one?" he whispered back.

"I shall stay with you, like this, and any of us will come if you call," the snake said smoothly.

"But you must hunt," he stated. "Isn't it enough if I find you outside?"

"Surely I can find food in those man-lairs. Besides, we shall take turns to be with you."

"Thank you all, more than I can possibly repay," Harry addressed the entire mass, "happy hunting."

After the cavern had emptied, Harry gathered up his discarded clothing, which was still too large, and headed straight to school. The teacher looked positively shocked to see him, and when the class headed to gym after math, she pulled him aside.

"Harry," she said softly, "we were told after Christmas hols by your aunt that you had been transferred. If you could tell her to bring us the paperwork confirming your return to this district, that would be fantastic."

"I can't," he said, looking at the floor. "They don't know I'm back, any more than they knew where I was."

The young teacher looked at the woefully thin child speculatively. "It's been since then that the cops have had you on the milk cartons, Harry, and we just got back from spring recess. The school the forms mentioned doesn't exist, you see," she added.

"But I'll still have to go back to the Dursleys, won't I," he whispered.

"Since what we learned last year about how hard it is to prove that anybody besides your cousin has hurt you won't change," she said reluctantly, "yes."

"I suppose I'd better go face my beating, I mean phys ed," Harry said dully.

"Would two hours of remedial work after school go over well with them?" she asked hopefully.

He smiled, a little. "Remind them that I'll miss the bus and have to walk all the way back if they don't deign to drive me," he said breezily.

"Good luck, Harry Potter," she murmured to his retreating back, "you'll need it.

Those brief hours were probably the only thing keeping him alive, as his workload at "home" had reached unprecedented levels, even for the Dursleys. More often than not, he had to keep his snake guardians out of the house, to prevent angering his relatives with his hisses warning them not to bite the offensive people. Once summer started, and regular school meals were no longer an option, the raw mice his little friends offered him became increasingly enticing.

The morning of his eleventh birthday, Harry was rudely awakened by the sensation of a small snake attempting to hide in his pants while simultaneously shouting something about an owl. Once he'd gotten the panicked creature to at least be still in its "hiding space," he put on his glasses and was surprised to find that he'd slept in. Upon entering the kitchen, he was treated to the sight of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon desperately trying to beat off the massive flock of owls that had blanketed the neighborhood. When he opened the window to ask them what was happening, one flew right at him!

Once he realized that it wasn't attacking him, he got off the floor, warily peering at the large bird. It actually had a letter tied to its foot, which was addressed to him. Fortunately, untying the letter and taking it caused the whole flock to leave. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to get back into the cupboard in time to hide from his irate uncle. That evening, when Hagrid arrived to help him go shopping, all of them were relieved to see the limping boy out of the house, at least till the next summer.

Harry was only concerned about how this would affect his deal with the snakes. "Er, Mr. Hagrid, before we go, can I say goodbye to the um, play park?" he asked desperately.

"A'right, if that's what you want," he said. The big man looked on sadly while the poor lad whispered intently at a bush. "Lily'd be so sad," he muttered, "what did those muggles do to her boy?"

"I don't have long," Harry hissed, "but I'm being taken to a school somewhere far away, for the whole winter."

"What if five of us came with you," one replied, "we could eat mice in the school, at least till it gets cold."

"And if I can't bring you back, or can't hibernate with the nest?" he asked worriedly.

"We want to get a chance at a new range, too," another assured him, "besides, you might meet a new nest there for the winter."

"Well, if you are all okay with it," Harry said, and got up. "Thanks Hagrid, where are we going first?"

When they got to the pet store, the big man's favorite place, and Harry asked the owner whether he could talk to any of the animals, especially snakes, he was surprised to learn that being what was called a parsletongue was a dark trait. He also had a hard time convincing Hagrid not to buy him an owl. Mentioning that he had no friends to send letters to caused him to cry. At last, they settled on a magically enhanced pair of glasses to replace his taped pair.

"Are you sure you don't want to be in Slytherin?" the hat asked, "their mascot is a snake, you know."

"Oh, really?" Harry replied, "what makes you think that'll change my mind after meeting that Malfoy boy?"

"More mice in the dungeons for the little pretty coiled in your hair," it suggested craftily, "alright, better be SLYTHERIN!"

Snape nearly choked on his sneer. Potter had somehow subverted the hat in his terrible pranks. Dumbledore lost his twinkle, and it was with effort that he managed to say blubber, rather than a more choice word. The poor boy would be eaten alive in that house.

"You'd better reconsidering turning down that offer, Potter," Draco snarled once he'd sat down.

Harry stared at the pale boy like he was a mouse. "So the burning ambition that put you in this house is to be the friend of the Boy-who-lived, Malfoy?"

"What, no, I'm going to be, um, like my father," Draco spluttered.

"Which would be…" Harry prompted.

"My father is a very important man in the Ministry of Magic," Draco replied with a sneer, "which is far more than your worthless father ever could have hoped for.

"Oh, yay, your dad isn't dead, not much of an achievement," Harry said bitterly, "just leave me alone, okay?"

Their common room looked like something out of the few seconds of a gangster movie Dudley had gotten yelled at for watching a few years ago. It was dark, and the dim and gilded green lamps made everybody look like a corpse. At least the snakes could protect him at night, though he thought briefly that sharing a room with Malfoy and his smelly goons would inspire nostalgia for the cupboard.

He thought it was really weird, in the first few weeks, when the head of his own house tried to take points off Gryffendor when he didn't know the answers in potions. Still, he was new, and so it didn't stop him from approaching Snape about the strange headaches caused by the DADA professor.

"What do you expect me to do about your weakness, you arrogant little twat," the man shouted.

"But what if that smelly turban is affecting other students? Malfoy is always saying you know about defense, surely there is something…"

"If there were, do you think I'd look so upset about having to sit next to the fool?" snapped the professor.

"Oh," said Harry, losing his cajoling voice, "how silly of me."

After that, his small friends insisted on investigating the den of the offensive Quirrell. Unfortunately, it was warded with a stinging hex. Harry's main consideration became determining whether Ron or Draco was bothering him more for not being the friend material they had expected when first meeting him. Halloween was the last day his friends had declared safe for them to stay out of hibernation in this colder climate. Therefore, Harry left the feast early to find a secluded spot to bid them farewell.

There was one nearly abandoned girl's bathroom that provided an excellent retreat from his tormentors. Granted, it was creepy that the resident ghost thought his talking to snakes was cute, reminding her of the last boy she had liked in life, but what could he do? It actually took him a few moments to notice the crying Gryffendor student, considering how Myrtle carried on. At least he hadn't pulled out a snake yet.

"Are you alright, not hurt?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Why would you care about a useless know-it-all," she sobbed, "you, you Slytherin!"

"Oh, but Harry's very nice, even if he won't be my boyfriend," interjected the ghost, "he even…"

"Myrtle! No secrets, remember?" Harry said anxiously, "now really, what happened?"

"Oh, its silly, Harry, I just overreacted to Ron Weasley calling me a bookworm, I'll be fine, I've heard it before, you know," she babbled, "um, my name is Hermione."

"That's how you pronounce it?" Harry confirmed, "and really, I know what you mean about Ron. Sometimes hearing stuff like that from him is worse than from Draco, or even getting hit."

"What would you know about that?" she asked, "didn't you defeat You-Know-Who when you were a baby?"

"I know who?" Harry was cut off by the Troll bursting into the bathroom. It was actually a good way to practice the spells he'd looked up in case Malfoy ever really attacked him. McGonogal actually gave him points for saving Hermione.

The next day, when they met up in the library to finish their conversation, they had a good laugh over how similar Draco and Ron's impersonations of Harry's actions were, right down to snide remarks about how the boy-who-lived was an attention-seeking prat. He also asked Hermione to have a word with McGonogal about his headaches, on considering how nice she had been.

"I could probably also research it myself; maybe you just have an allergy to garlic," she suggested, "but, I have to ask, what were you doing in the bathroom, and I know it wasn't your first time."

Harry sighed, "Really the same reason as you. Remember that I have to room with Malfoy. Sometimes I just need a break, see? Myrtle even acts as a lookout, nothing creepy, I promise."

"Oh, sorry Harry, I didn't mean it that way," she replied.

He was glad when the winter holidays arrived, as it meant an end to Quitdditch games for a while. It was getting rather agonizing to watch, as he always saw the snitch first, and seeing how badly his own house cheated guaranteed he wouldn't be trying out anytime soon. He retreated to the library in disgrace immediately after breakfast on Chrsitmas day, with Draco's laughter at his pathetic present from the Dursleys and Hagrid's well-meant rock cakes echoing in his ears. Harry had so hoped that the wizarding world would be better than the one he had just left behind.

After a big lunch, he walked out onto the grounds, past the snowball fight, and into the forest. When he reached the cave they'd shown him, Harry carefully crawled in, pulling the snow back over the entrance. Faint sleepy hisses greeted him as he nestled gratefully in with his true brethren. It was not until classes started up again that teachers were sure he was gone, and by then two snowfalls had make searching utterly hopeless.

Professor Dumbledore faced the anxious members of the Order of the Pheonix, searching for what to say to the group. He had not planned on having to call them back up so soon, but it had been weeks, and everyone assured him that the boy must be dead by now. "I'm afraid I have some terrible news for you, my friends. Harry Potter has vanished, and it is very likely he has died, though we have no proof, so some hope remains."

"I don't mean to sound heartless, Dumbledore," said Diggle, "but why do we all need to be here for this, isn't reading about it in the Prophet enough? I mean, it isn't as though the dark lord will be coming back, right?"

"Dedalus! The poor child may be a typical Slytherin, as Ron tells me," Mrs. Weasley scolded, "but it is still reasonable for the Headmaster to want to broaden the search."

"Thank you, Molly," said Dumbledore, "very nicely put, now, if you would…"

With that the meeting continued as though they had never been apart, with lots of gossip about people's children, and what had happened since, well, since last time. The only member who wasn't reacting as though it were a cheerful reunion was a certain werewolf in the corner. Remus stayed very quiet, as he was processing both the astonishing revelation of Harry being both a member of Slytherin house and gone, seemingly from the face of the earth, with nobody really concerned.

After the old headmaster had dismissed them from the meeting, he sat back in his now empty office and sighed. Questions swirled through his brain: Where had he gone wrong? What had happened to the boy? How could their son end up in such a house? These thoughts would not stop as he gazed sadly at the boy's trunk which had been brought up to his office for safe keeping. Harry hadn't even taken the invisibility cloak, which was still in the wrapping Dumbeldore had sent, in fact. Remus had been so heartbroken he couldn't think of assigning him anywhere.

Hermione, for her own part, was devastated by the disappearance of her first real foray into friendship at this school. She and Harry had taken to studying in the library together, as he was not only her savior, but the only other person she knew who shared her interest in studying ahead. Beyond that, she understood more than anybody else what the boy was going through. Her thoughts drifted back to their little chat in the library about his status. She had been so surprised by his continuing to come and sit at the study table she had basically claimed in the library, as well as consumed by curiosity.

Finally it had all burst out. "Look, Harry," she'd said, "Its not that I'm not grateful that you are stooping to spend time with me, I mean you're my hero and all, after last month, but really I don't understand why anybody wouldn't want to spend time with you, considering that you saved the whole wizarding world, you know. Gryffendor can't be angry about you not being sorted to them forever, I mean Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw have never been bothered by it. I think most of the Slytherins are proud to have you, even if Draco is a jerk and you saved somebody from their rival house."

Hermione had paused mid-ramble, for a breath, only to see that Harry looked totally lost. "What do you mean, I'm a hero? I haven't done anything, really, except for what I did for you, Hermione."

She blinked. "But surely somebody told you, it is in all the history books? You killed you-know-who when you were, well I guess you were only one, so you don't remember. That's why you're an orphan, of course, he killed them first…" and Hermione had stopped talking at the look on the boy's face: shock, horror, confusion, and anger.

"I don't know who, Hermione, seeing as it's so bloody obvious to, to everybody, even if they didn't grow up with magic either." The last thing she had said to him was an automatic "language" and Harry'd been avoiding her since. Now he was gone, and she wondered if he had had any other friends, either.

Hermione was in fact quietly falling apart, a state which even Snape had noticed, for all that she still managed to complete her schoolwork. She had been so subdued and silent in her classes for weeks, that the awful teacher had rewarded her with a few points for "finally having the sense to keep her mouth shut around her betters" which had been accompanied by a pitying version of his sneer. The poor girl hadn't even responded, lost in her miserable thought that she knew exactly why Harry had fled, and how he felt, knowing as she did how horrible it was to have no friends. At least her roommates Lavender and Parvati had never actually taunted her openly.

Winter had dragged on and on, and with it, the Order's half-hearted attempts at finding the boy who had been the end of their war only a decade before. They had really only made a complete search of the Forbidden Forest, Little Whinging, Hogsmeade, and Diagon Alley. Even London had been deemed too big for more than a cursory survey of potential places one could find a lost child, and Harry had been unofficially written off as dead. On the plus side, Hagrid's involvement in these searches kept him from acquiring a certain egg.

At long last, the weather broke, the snow melted, and deep in the forbidden forest, a few snakes tested the air at the opening of their cave. The next day, the whole mass was moving, supple bodies slipping past each other and slowly untwining themselves from the giant ball they had formed. The sibilant sounds were interrupted by the incongruous noise of a very human yawn. Harry's head popped out of the center of the small cave, his body still buried in emerald scales. "I don't want to leave this time either," he hissed in a whisper, "no matter how much I want to learn magic."

The snake still coiled in his hair slipped down to taste the boy's tears with its tongue and hissed, "my brother, it is time for hunting, now, not nesting with family." Harry nodded, dislodging the little one with a chuckle, and retrieving his crumpled robes from a slight ledge inside the cave. It was indeed time to go hunting. Harry walked back up towards the castle with a confident stride.

When a thin but very well rested Harry Potter strolled into the entrance hall that warm morning, with his winter cloak over his arm, Hermione was the first to greet him, completely bowling him over with her hug. By the time he could get coherent phrases out of her, a large crowd had gathered around them. It was she who plowed through the gawking students to drag him to the hospital wing. This was actually his first trip there, for all that it was brief, as Madame Pomphrey declared him healthy, but only released him on a solemn promise to eat more at every meal.

"Hey scarface, the papers are calling you 'Boy-who-lives-again.' I bet you're proud of that," Draco jeered, "as you aren't much good for anything but just barely surviving, you pathetic excuse for a wizard."

"Really? Thanks for telling me, as I seem to have missed the morning rag by being in the Hospital wing all morning," he replied calmly, "can't say they're very original. But you're telling me because you're just dying to know what I've been up to, right?"

"NO, I mean of course not!" came the very predictable response.

Hermioine, on the other hand, would not be so easy to put off, he thought. To avoid her questioning, he desperately scheduled meetings with all the professors, asking for help in make-up work. Unfortunately, they all directed him back to her excellent study schedules and notes. Once she stopped castigating for all of the work he'd have to make up, she started in on his absence.

"Look, Hermione, I'm really glad you are willing to help me catch up, but worrying about where I was is just wasting our time," he said in a placating tone, before exclaiming, "do you know I saw a dead unicorn in the forest on my way back? I'm honestly scared to be near whatever bit out its throat!"

"What! Harry, that's horrible, do you have any idea how evil something would have to be to do that, oh tell me you've already told Dumbledore, were there any clues what would have done that, could we look, right, sorry, should we research what would do that?" she finished lamely upon seeing him wince.

"Hagrid was dealing with it when I came past, he must have told the Headmaster, you know how he is," Harry said calmly, "now we should deal with my homework before doing any kind of independent research like that, you know."

"Obviously, that goes without saying, Harry," Hermioine retorted, "but do you think it had anything to do with the troll?"

"No that was ages ago, but you could look into it, even though I'm pretty sure they are just dumb, not evil," he shrugged, then continued, "wait, do you think whatever's after the unicorns had bitten Snape's leg?"

"What! When did that happen?" she demanded.

"Probably during all the chaos on Halloween," Harry said, "that's what made me remember, he was limping for a week afterwards. He actually called our whole house together and told us it was a bite that he'd gotten in the forest, though the older students were sure he was lying to scare us off the forest."

"Which is of course why you chose it as your shortcut back here," she replied archly.

Later that week, Blaize demanded that Harry share the invisibility cloak he had spotted when Harry was checking his trunk to make sure none of his stuff had gotten ruined or stolen while he was gone. Apparently, the other boy wanted to make a trip to the kitchens, of all the things possible around the school. While Harry had a feeling the Headmaster wasn't going to expel him for having the cloak as Blaze was insinuating, based on the handwriting on the note that had come with it, he did think it would be nice to know where he could get food, apart from meal times at the great hall, so he went along with the other boy's demands, provided they went together.

On their way back, he spotted Hermione slinking down the halls alone. Tugging on Blaize, he crept up behind her and poked her back. It was kind of funny to see her jump while holding back a scream. "Do you want to go back to your commons unseen?" he whispered.

"Harry, is that you?" she squeaked, glancing around and through him at the apparently empty hall.

"Yeah, but I'm here too, " hissed Blaize, uncovering his head, "and that's a terrible idea, just ignore Potter,"

"Oh shut it, Zabini, you dragged me out here, don't you want to know where the lions have their common room?" said Harry, "anyways the real question is why she is out past curfew at all."

"Probably camped out in the library and lost track of time doing all of that thrilling homework," Blaize said, and smirked at her chagrined nod.

"Just get under here Hermione, and let's get going, quietly," Harry retorted, rearranging the cloak so she would fit.

They were on their way up to the Gryffendor level of the school when a figure in a dark cloak darted past them and into the forbidden corridor. The unlikely trio halted, almost as one, in surprise.

"Is that Snape? We should tell Dumbledore about this," gasped Hermione.

"If it is, he already knows," replied Blaize, "but other people can wear black, you know. The gait is all wrong, for one thing. Even you should know Snape glides, rather than walking along haltingly."

"I think I saw a turban," Harry added darkly, "and I want to know what that headache inducing git is up to in there."

He had wanted to have Blaze take back the cloak for him while he went in alone, but the curiosity of his companions was overwhelming, and lucky, considering that the boy had a very nice placating singing voice, even under the pressure of performing for a three headed dog. Harry then proceeded to surprise Blaize by beating him to the flying key, and was in turn shocked at the recalcitrant boy's sacrifice in the chess game, as was Hermione, who proceeded to insist on going back to help him, in spite of Harry's calm assertion that the hit hadn't been as hard as she thought.

"I swear, Hermione, I've had worse and kept running from my cousin, he's just lying low so the chess pieces will leave him be," was his actual declaration.

Since he had neither knowledge of the stone, nor prior experience with the mirror of Erised, Harry was unable to retrieve it, but instead stood transfixed by images of his family. Naturally, this prompted Voldemort's attack. Later, in the hospital wing, when Dumbledore explained what had burned his attacker, Harry was disappointed to discover that he couldn't burn people with his hands, at will. It would have been so nice to have that ability, around his "family."

A few days later, Blaize cornered Harry in their dorm. "You owe me for that sacrifice in the chess game," he declared, "I need you to tutor me in seeking."

"Doesn't Hermione owe you too, by that same logic?" Harry queried, "and why that, as well."

"She came back to help me, so now we're even," Blaize said dismissively, "and really, you sought that key very well—you should be on our team. But I've heard what you say about their cheating, so I won't tell them. I could care less, myself. I just want to beat Draco out for once."

"In that case, we shouldn't start while we're still at school then," Harry said, "you'll have to get Dumbledore to let me visit your house for a few weeks, and we will definitely have a deal."

"Well, of course you'd come to my house—what does he have to do with your summer plans?" Blaize replied loftily, "I do know how to communicate with muggles, after all, even though I'm pure."

"Oh, goody for you," Harry scoffed, "the old man just told me that I'm trapped with them for some kind of worthless mystical protection he set up ages ago. It probably already wore off, if it ever worked."

Dumbledore actually agreed to letting Harry go for the last three weeks of summer, but only because it would make it easier for him to shop for school supplies and get to the train. Harry really did not expect any letters, even from Hermione, and when Dobby showed up, the snakes scared him off before Harry could so much as say a word. The Dursleys, for their part, carried on business as usual, but in the end were very impressed by the limo sent by the Zabinis to pick up Harry, though they would never admit it.


	2. Year Two: Black as Pitch

Disclaimer: I am not JKR, or any of her minions, or whoever else has rights to Harry Potter

Note: It would be a shocker if I wrote more on this story, it's actually the first fan fic I ever wrote, even if I wasn't posting till just now.

Year Two, or Black as Pitch

Harry had a lot of fun borrowing the family brooms and chucking golf balls around for his housemate to catch. They even tried to simulate some of the drills recommended by a playbook Blaize had, and Harry was happy to finally learn the actual rules of the game. The family took him on two outings to "the alley," as they called it, and were very entertained by an altercation between the Weasly and Malfoy patriarchs on one visit. The Zaibinis would use the scene for years to taunt the latter for generally acting exactly like his enemy, especially as it was "public brawling like a common muggle," in the words of Mrs. Zabini.

When the barrier to platform 9 3/4 was sealed, the elder Zaibinis had lots of fun chewing out both the ministry officials in charge of it and the Headmaster, before side-along apparating both boys into Hogsmead, just in time for them to walk into the Welcoming feast. Later on, the Syltherin team tryouts were an equally entertaining event, featuring an appearance by Draco's father, who wanted to buy a spot for his son with brooms for the team, after he had been clearly out flown by Blaize.

When the chamber was opened, almost everybody's first guess was that Draco was the culprit, as the bribe hadn't worked, especially as the Zabinis had quietly loaned their family brooms to any of the players who had older models. Ron Weasley actually began to stalk Malfoy, much to Hermione's annoyance, as she too had seen the fight, and assumed it was part of the family feud.

Harry agreed with her, but had felt forced to avoid her, despite the fact that she still was really his only friend. Her incessant prattle about Lockheart was unbearable, especially since the idiot wouldn't shut up about his being the boy-who-lived. His negative view of defense teachers was only to be confirmed a few weeks later.

"Serpentsortia!" shouted Draco, with a satisfied smirk, which only faltered slightly when a small green snake slipped silently off Harry's outstretched wand hand. Lockheart checked himself from the banishment he was about to attempt, eager to see the snakes interact, and confused that the powerful boy-who-lived would produce a smaller serpent.

"Kill the enemy human," hissed the black snake, advancing rapidly towards the smaller, which hissed back, "the speaker's enemy is behind you, big brother," in a conversation that only Harry could hear.

Snape, for his own part, was shocked to see Draco's snake turn back towards its caster and quickly canceled it for the startled boy, while Harry quickly scooped up his. How had Potter cast silently, and then controlled both of the animals wordlessly? He was not the only one to start suspecting that the unlikely Slytherin was in fact the heir so feared. Only a few days later, Hermione managed to corner him in the library.

"Where on earth did that snake come from, you couldn't have mastered silent casting yet, could you, and how did you control both, and don't try to deny it, I know better, you did, we saw you."

Harry groaned loudly to interrupt her whispered tirade, then pulled up his sleeve to show one of the snakes, "look Hermione, it's just my pet."

"Are you trying to make me think that it just knew to go tell off the other snake, or something?" she said suspiciously, "because the only way I've heard of controlling snakes is…"

"Parsletongue," Harry finished for her, "I know, but trust me, if I'd said anything to them, everyone would have heard."

"Oh," she said, "so you aren't the murderous heir of Slytherin or some other nascent dark lord?"

"If I were, we wouldn't be friends, now would we?" he replied testily.

"Are we?" she replied, a wistful tone to her voice, "you have been avoiding me for so long. I'm tempted to think you've come into some evil inheritance and thought better of befriending the bookworm."

Harry blinked at her and said, "No, that's not it, I just can't stand to be around you when you're mooning over Lockheart. I think that man has some kind of horrible crush or something on me!"

"Eww, that's gross, Harry," she said with a frown, "though now that I think about it, I wouldn't be surprised. He is awfully flamboyant—he hasn't done anything to you in those detentions has he?" When he shook his head, she continued, "D'you want to help me research what the creature might be?"

He smiled, "sure, as long as I can do my homework first," and was rewarded with a scandalized glare. Hermione really set herself up for that kind of comment. It did turn out to be fun getting to learn about some of the more dangerous creatures out there.

When Harry finally heard the voice in the walls, the snake currently riding on his arm went absolutely rigid, cutting off circulation. He ducked into the nearest empty classroom, and began to croon softly to it, trying desperately to coax the little animal off his arm. Finally, it dropped into his waiting hand.

"Big, very big," the poor thing hissed, pooled bonelessly in the boy's hands. "The biggest snake of us all."

"But we didn't see it," he whispered back, glancing around nervously.

"We use the plumbing all the time to come to you," the snake responded, "and there's room in the bigger ones. We should probably hibernate early."

"I'm probably the only human besides the heir who can talk to it," Harry said, correctly including himself in the snake's comment about hibernating. "I have to do something to help everybody."

"I'll tell the others," the little creature said in a defeated tone, "and somebody will tell you what we decide. But take me outside, I'm not going through the pipes alone, when it is roaming them."

When Harry came out of the room, the hall was full of people talking about the petrified student, curiosity and fear taking turns in their expressions. The next time he saw Hermione in the library, he suggested she look at types of big snakes, in addition to her current perusing of creatures that can petrify. This reminded her of the myth of Medusa, and sent her scurrying into the stacks without questioning his suggestion. They didn't really get any further than that, as the homework squeeze before winter break consumed their efforts. Harry's little friends had long since gone underground, leaving him to join them when he would. As break drew nearer, he became increasingly agitated, debating whether to leave, considering the chances of the "biggest one" hibernating, along with his chances of waking up before it.

Remembering their tendency to briefly awaken at early spring thaws to taste the chances of a true arrival of warm weather, Harry determined to leave as soon as term ended. On the second to last day of classes, when he heard that a blizzard was coming, Harry immediately fled to the forest, knowing that it would be his last chance before everything was completely covered in a thick blanket of snow, which probably wouldn't melt till spring.

Little did he know that somebody would be petrified only days later, and blame pinned on him, with the assumption being that his absence indicated his flight from the scene of the crime. Even those who remembered his disappearance the year past were reluctant to start a search.

When Harry arose, prophetically, on Easter, to the muffled complaints from the sleeping mass, it was only to return to a school that had tired from months of speculation. Almost immediately, he got into a violent argument with Draco, featuring the boy's pointed disbelief in the rumors that Harry was the heir. It always angered him to have his rival agree, as it ruined the argument. He retreated to Myrtle's loo to spend the night, and got the diary as well.

She insisted he write in it to "get his feelings out" because she wasn't in the mood to hear his problems after having it thrown through her. It was when he was on his way to give it to Dumbledore the next morning, after seeing the clearly fake scene featuring Hagrid, when he ran into Ginny Weasley.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," he gasped, helping her pick up her things.

"That's my diary," she hissed, "why do you have it?"

"I found it in a loo, I was going to give it to the Headmaster," he said, throwing his hands up at her suspicious tone. "There's something wrong with it, you must be confused, this isn't even your name on it."

She snatched it away from him, hugged it close, and said, "this is my diary, sorry I'm not rich enough to get my name engraved."

"Alright, sorry, I didn't mean it that way," he replied, resolving to keep an eye on the furious girl.

He drifted listlessly into the library after classes that day, afraid to go anywhere, but desperately needing to catch up on homework. Hermione instantly cornered him with a homework make-up schedule, surprising him to no end with her vehement support of his innocence.

"Honestly Harry, how anybody could believe that rubbish, when its obvious you had to have left before the blizzard, and did the same thing last year," she groused. "At least you got back sooner this year. I just finalized your study schedule last night when I heard you were back."

She insisted on him working in the library with her, "so I can explain things to you," but he suspected she just needed to get away from her house, which was united in hating him, aside from her. Hermione finished all her work long before him, which gave her time for their "extra project."

The day she finally found basilisks, the parted ways towards their own dorms carrying hastily conjured mirrors as a precaution. When she was petrified that very night, Harry was devastated, which amused Draco to no end. When he was finally able to retreat to Myrtle's bathroom to unburden after all the excitement involving Dumbledore and Hagrid's removal, she was unusually excited, happy even. He had to listen as she told him all about her death, after a similar petrifying incident, but he was glad to be hearing it when she talked about Tom, as it confirmed his suspicions regarding the possessed diary.

Watching Ginny like a hawk had become his main priority, besides faithfully completing Hermione's catch up schedule and taking scrupulous notes in class for her own catch up. She would awaken to use them, he had to believe it. Therefore, he knew exactly what the message on the walls meant that fateful spring day. He pushed his way through the crowd to be at Ron's side.

"Where's your sister, Weasley?" he whispered, rhetorically.

"You took her, tell me, you bastard!" the redhead shouted, and we aren't even halfbloods!"

"There's something wrong with her diary, you git," Harry replied, exasperated, "now come with me, if you want her back."

"I'm not going anywhere without a teacher," Ron yelled, "you can't kill me too!"

"I'll come," Lockheart enthused, "I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding, Harry will set everything right."

Both boys looked at the man, incredulous, but it was Harry who broke the silence. "Fine, come on then," and pulling Weasley along behind him, headed to the bathroom. He actually managed to stun the teacher before he got Ron's wand. It was amazing how much living with Draco and his thugs had improved his reflexes, even beyond Dudley's tender mercies. They left the man on the floor like so much trash, though Ron kept his wand on Harry nervously the whole way in.

He dove to his sister's side with an incoherent roar, and stayed there, shocked, during the ensuing conversation between Riddle and Potter. When the former called the basilisk out, Harry yelled at him, "keep her safe, but don't look at the snake because it can kill you with its eyes if you see them."

"Oh, is dear heroic Harry trying to protect his little friends? Not running away like you do every year? Dear little Ginny was so angry you weren't dead she threw my diary into a loo," the specter sneered, "and besides, the boy dies as soon as you become my first kill in this new body."

Harry shrugged, "and no doubt Dumbledore and a bunch of Aurors will be waiting at the top to arrest you for it." At that point, Fawkes burst into the chamber in a ball of flames, and the fight was on. Afterwards, the phoenix flew them right past a terrified Lockheart, who had just spotted one of the basilisk's cast-off skins. Dumbledore had to actually cajole the bird into going back to fetch the man, who made a grand protestation and quit immediately upon his return to the surface, much to everybody's delight.

As much as he was glad to have the entire Weasley family's undying gratitude and friendship, Harry was a bit sad. He had wanted to talk the snake out of following Riddle, but in its maddened state, after Fawkes had taken its eyes, killing had been the only option for the magnificent beast. Harry really regretted his earlier reluctance to seek it out as soon as he knew where the chamber was located. At least he was able to help Hermione get caught up on her school work and return her earlier favor.

Harry was not surprised by his boring summer, just happy that his small friends were still willing to associate with him after all of that. Apparently, they also could have been petrified, as they slithered through the same pipes. Dear "Aunt" Marge fainted when his current reptilian companion parted his hair to hiss at her balefully. Fortunately, the snake hid from the rest of his unpleasant relatives, and he was delighted to find that he was not going to be locked up in his cupboard for once in his life. Instead, they chased him bodily out of the house and ordered not to return till Marge left after her week-long visit.

He sat on a swing in the play park, aimlessly considering how to feed himself for the next few days when he saw a huge black dog. It dashed off immediately, but the next morning, when he woke up under a bush, he saw it again and called, "here boy, c'mon, don't be scared. We're both strays, I guess, aren't we," he said upon clearly seeing the shaggy state of the thin and nervous animal. "Let's get something to eat, shall we?"

"Ruff, ruff," the dog barked, with its bright and surprisingly blue eyes locked on his green.

"Wait here," Harry whispered upon reaching Mrs. Figg's yard. "We don't want you to scare her cats, or we'll get nothing. I'll bring something for you, okay." He was a bit surprised that the dog stayed, and to find the big dog still waiting in the bushes with a lolling tongue. Harry laughed, "aren't you a smart dog! Look here, she even gave me a water dish for you. Old Mrs. Figg's pretty nice, eh?"

Harry didn't mind sleeping on her couch, and the dog didn't mind sleeping under her bushes, so life was good on Wisteria Walk. They played in the park, and both filled out slightly. It was the most idyllic week of his life that he'd been conscious for, but the evening of the day he saw Marge's car leave, he knew it was time to go back so he could get a ride to the Cauldron to meet the Weasleys for a little shopping and a place to stay for the last few days before the train left.

"Well, I guess this is it, boy," Harry said, stroking the dog fondly, "I'm not allowed to have dogs at Hogwarts, unfortunately. Not that snakes are allowed either," he paused to laugh when the dog jumped at seeing one poke its head out of his collar, "but you are much harder to hide, invisibility cloak or not." The dog woofed happily, "and I can always argue with Snape that they are my house mascot." It would be months before he knew why the dog chose that moment to snort and dash off.


	3. Year Three: Sneaking Snakes

Disclaimer: I am not JKR, or any of her minions, or whoever else has rights to Harry Potter

Note: It would be a shocker if I wrote more on this story, it's actually the first fan fic I ever wrote, even if I wasn't posting till just now.

Year Three, or Sneaking Snakes

Harry specifically chose the compartment with the sleeping professor, knowing chances he would be joined were low, considering the popularity both Blaise and the various Weasleys. Hermione did join him, which practically guaranteed that Ron would stay away, as their arguments had already become school legend. Once she and his serpentine companion had provided him with a complete explanation of what had happened between the professor and the Dementors, he was determined to learn the charm. He couldn't let anything induce such a state of near hibernation and mental anguish be induced in him ever again, even if it was his only way of hearing his mother.

All things considered, everybody was surprised when Sirius Black tried to break into Gryffendor tower instead of the Slytherin dorms. Harry used the map from the twins to slip out into the forest to discuss hibernation times, feeling that he'd be safer out there, despite the potential changed focus of the escaped prisoner. He was pleasantly surprised to see his dog hanging out in the forest, and actually convinced Dobby to bring it food while he slept. The silly elf didn't even think it was strange that the animal preferred meat sandwitches over dog food.

However, his planned early date for slipping away was interrupted by his passing out upon encountering the dementors congregating around the quidditch pitch, where a game was in full progress. He woke up in the hospital wing with a mouthful of chocolate and the memory of his vow to learn the charm against the foul creatures strong in his mind. All the same, Professor Lupin was amazed at the intensity with which Harry attacked learning the Patronus charm, which he insisted on practicing every night, and actually managed to master it just before classes were out for Christmas.

He had planned to use the Hogsmead visit as a cover for his disappearance, but returned to the castle to ponder what he'd overheard about Sirius Black. Perhaps the man had merely assumed that he was in the same house as his parents; there certainly were enough people who had been obviously disappointed by his sorting.

Harry actually vanished shortly after opening his first Weasley sweater. He slid into the mass of snakes with relief, certain that Sirius Black would never find or harm him there. In an adjoining cavern, a certain black dog patiently awaited his food, knowing to stay away from the snakey-smelling back recesses of his current home.

Bane took a deep breath of the warm spring air, knowing that it would stay that way, now. He looked suspiciously towards the snake cavern, fingering the bow at the movement. Nobody else in the herd was brave enough to patrol out this far, but suspicious things were happening with one of the house elves, the stupid things.

The centaur got the shock of his life when a human figure slowly crawled out of the small crevice. Harry leaned back, stretching, his pale skin criss-crossed by the clinging black and green snakes, perfectly matching his brilliant eyes and hair. As this makeshift clothing began to drop off, he turned and looked straight at Bane. The centaur dropped his bow and fled, wondering as he crashed through the underbrush if this was what the stars had meant about the lord of snakes arising with his servants within the next year.

Harry shrugged and started putting on his clothes, then slunk back to the castle. He had thought he'd seen something, or somebody, but it was hard to tell without his glasses, and Black wouldn't have fled. He was actually early to breakfast, which was nice, as he was too ravenous to deal with questions, and the emptiness of the Great Hall made it easy to feed his remaining friends as many sausages as they wanted. There must have been a dozen still clinging to his mammalian warmth. Lupin's absence was a bit disappointing, as he was fond of the man. Seeing Snape's expression upon spotting him was almost worth it, though.

After class, when he saw that professor taking something to Lupin's quarters, he followed, and slipped in when the other had left. "Hey Lupin, how was winter?" Harry started to laugh when the poor man nearly choked.

Lupin ended up coughing up nearly half of his potion while the contrite student patted his back. "Harry, do you have any idea how worried everyone, I was?"

"Sorry," he said, "but I have done the same thing every year, everyone else shouldn't have been so concerned."

"There wasn't a serial killer after you those years," Lupin admonished him, "and I did know and worry those years."

"Voldemort himself possessing my defense teacher doesn't count for that?" He continued, "and even though I did kill the basilisk last year, I just feel safer out of Hogwarts. Now what was that about knowing about my other disappearances?"

Lupin blinked, and muttered, "I think I'm going to have a bit of a talk with Dumbledore about those comments," before giving a brief explanation of the Order's reunion, without mentioning it by name.

They just barely made it down to dinner, and as soon as it was over, Hermione pounced on Harry and dragged him off to see Hagrid, with a hasty explanation of the elder Malfoy's legal action against the hippogriph. "Of course, I've been scouring the library for legal methods and angles I could use for freeing him, and sending letters, but I can't help thinking your signature would have been able to at least delay things. Prejudice against the muggleborn really is more than just a Malfoy thing, I guess," she said, mournfully.

Ron was actually already down at the cabin petting Buckbeak, who was the inspiration of a partial truce between him and his housemate, as he continued to idolize the animal for the Malfoy incident. Harry was totally surprised later when they were leaving by his dog's appearance and subsequent attack of Ron. He immediately tackled the animal, shouting, "no, no, bad dog, Ron is my friend," while it scrabbled frantically at Ron's torso and arms. "Hermione, go and get Professor Lupin, he'd know the most about animals besides Hagrid."

She frowned anxiously, "but he's sick, you saw that he was out of class today. I don't want to bother."

"Then get Snape," Harry said, "but don't mention Ron, then. I talked to Lupin, he had some potion, wasn't too bad. Tell him we're by the willow."

Hermione screamed as a branch shot past her and Harry almost lost his grip on the dog. "I'm going! Don't let it get you," she added, over her shoulder as she ran."

Ron yelped as a branch struck his leg with a sickening crunch, clipping Harry in the shoulder at the same time, knocking him off the crazed dog, which immediately took the opportunity to drag the boy into a crevice. By the time Harry had leaped to the spot, it had resealed, and for a few breathless moments, he scrabbled hopelessly in the roots before finding the catch.

"He's after Scabbers, my rat!" Ron gasped when Harry burst in, "no wonder the poor thing was hiding at Hagrid's. First Hermione's demon cat, now your grim after my poor pathetic pet."

Harry blinked, nonplussed, as he'd taken arithmancy at Hermione's advice and had no idea what a grim was. "I wish you could just tell me why you're after his rat, you silly dog," he sighed. They were both shocked when it obligingly transformed into Sirius Black. Just as he started to explain, an out of breath Lupin dashed in, followed by Hermione. Sirius used the distraction to seize the quivering rat from his owner.

"Recognize him, brother?" Sirius shouted, brandishing the quivering animal, "let's kill this rat together."

Immediately, said victim transformed into a scruffy man, still dangling by the convict's hold on his collar, "please, please don't, you don't know how afraid I was. How can you blame me for this?"

"What on earth is going on!" Hermione interrupted, "and how did Sirius Black get in here? Where's the dog?"

"Apparently, he is my dog," Harry replied, "and here I thought he wasn't going to go after me on account of my being in Slytherin, like some junior Death Eater."

"No, though we do have to talk about that, I came to kill the traitor I was imprisoned for murdering years ago," he replied with exasperation, "James wanted to tell you, Remus, but I'm sorry to say I thought you were the spy, sorry."

"Are you suggesting you switched secret keepers?" Remus continued upon seeing a sheepish nod, "but what about all the muggles killed?"

"They must have gotten caught in the explosion when I blew the gas line to escape this lunatic," Peter squeaked, "who cares? You kids aren't going to just watch them kill me are you? Ron, I was a good pet, wasn't I?"

The redhead snorted with disgust, "you were the worst, and I even let you sleep in my bed. You are sick!"

"Too bad you didn't keep him in a cage like everyone else, or I'd have gotten him that night I broke in with none the wiser, and we wouldn't have this mess now," Sirius added unhelpfully.

"What!" gasped Snape as he burst into the room, "Pettigrew, alive!"

The rat jumped on that, "you've got to help me, Dumbledore, our master," he babbled desperately, twisting out of Black's grip.

"Yay, another spy," muttered Harry, as Lupin gasped in sudden pain.

"Stupify!" shouted Snape at the suddenly fleeing rat. "You'd better have taken your potion, you fool. What possessed you to leave the castle tonight, of all possible nights? You ought to be behind strong locks!"

They had all just managed to get past the tree, with Snape carrying the caged rat, when Lupin barked, "I don't think I kept enough of my potion down, you'd better get away. Harry, this is not your fault, I shouldn't have come out."

When they had nearly reached the castle, leaving Sirius outside to wait for a verdict, the werewolf charged them, causing Snape to drop the cage in terror. It cracked open, and the frantic animal took off, the werewolf in hot pursuit. "At least he had the sanity to ignore us," the potions master muttered, "but we must tell the headmaster what has transpired, for all that it will sound absurd."

Harry was very glad Hermione had ignored his advice regarding classes when they were able to go back and save Buckbeak. As they were sneaking along, desperately trying to avoid being spotted by anybody, he saw Sirius all alone. The man was surrounded by Dementors and defenseless, with the werewolf off chasing the rat.

"Oh, how horrible, Harry," Hermione whispered, "the ministry has orders for them to kiss him."

"I know," said Harry, "hold Buckbeak." He then stepped forward to cast his best Patronus, thinking of what Lupin had said about its form from the first time. They left the unconscious man draped over the nervous hippogryph, in a rush to get back to the castle in time. Harry was almost relieved to fall back into the morass of make-up work after such a first day back.

He had also, in the process, become the twin's undisputed hero, for returning and causing such a ruckus, and on their birthday, no less. He'd decided to withhold his knowledge of the identity of the map makers for a while, in an attempt to let their fervor die down, despite his appreciation of their extra tutoring in "pranking-oriented" potions and advanced charms with "hilarious applications." There is really only so much he could learn about how to make potions explode, especially considering that he'd had that class with Neville and Seamus for several years, after all.

The general wizarding public, or perhaps just the Daily Prophet found themselves in quite a quandary—should they talk more about Lupin quitting in a hail storm of howlers over his being a werewolf, or the continuing hunt for the notorious Sirius Black, or the crazy allegations from a few school children and Severus Snape that Pettigrew was alive and masquerading as a rat. The Quibbler, of course, simply re-ran all of its old articles about Stubby Boardman, in addition to posting a full, but confusingly vague interview from Dumbledore himself regarding the events surrounding Black's appearance at Hogwarts.

Harry, of course, was blissfully unaware of all this, aside from a few letters from Hermione, sent through regular post, of course. There was no telling what his relatives would do to him if another owl appeared in their house or garden. Even Hermione knew this, and frankly sent every bit of post with fervent prayers that her friend would get the mail before his relatives, so as to actually be able to read what she had to say. He'd only been going through his routine of dodging the relatives for a week when Blaise Zaibini himself appeared in the local play park, where he usually hung out.

"I do hope you've not decided to drop me as a friend in favor of the Weasley clan," he said in an offhand manner. "I suppose with all their muggle-loving ways they've been on your phone day and night, one or another of them. It's really quite pathetic that father only allowed me to come after you when he overheard they'd gotten ahold of tickets and were thinking of taking you along."

"Tickets to what, Blaise, my first friend?" Harry said, "Honestly, I don't think they can even pronounce telephone correctly, let alone use one. Worst sort of purebloods, really—I heard Ron even reads that comic that makes fun of ordinary people."

"Oh really, how fun," Blaise grinned. "I'm talking about the Quidditch World Cup, you poor disconnected twit. It's in England this year, and we've got the best seats in the house—same view as the top box, but without either Malfoys or Fudge."

"Well, that is an attractive proposition," Harry said, trying to sound offhand, "of course, any escape from hell, I mean, here, would be great. How long can we extend my Qutidditch Cup related visit to you?"

"Trying to invite yourself over to my house, Potter? How very unsubtle of you. But, considering your need to shop, and get back to school, I anticipated that—how about the rest of the summer, starting with the Cup?"

"Oh, I will definitely owe you now, how very sneaky Blasé. An offer I really can't refuse," Harry said with a grin, 'how soon, I mean, when can I come over?"

Blrise grinned and pulled out a medallion with a family crest of some kind on it, and handed it to Harry. "Tap this with your wand while touching your trunk as soon as you've packed, and it will take you to my family manor."

"Planned on my agreeing, didn't you?"

"Only an idiot wouldn't. I'll see you when you show up, then, Potter?"

"Tell your mother to expect me for dinner tonight, then, Zaibini, alright?"

"Wear wizarding robes then—the rags you're wearing now would be a disgrace even for a House Elf."

Harry did not reply, waiting for Blaise to disappear before going back to number four to pack. It was the work of a moment to inform the Dursleys he'd be spending the summer with the same family as last year, though with a different method of departure. Packing took even less time, as all Harry did was shove the books and papers on his desk into his trunk. He did have to change, however, so it was about ten minutes later that Harry disappeared from Number four Privet drive. He was only moderately surprised to find himself in the front room of the Zaibini townhouse, rather than the country manor, given the way the family tended to move from one house to another via floo, as though they were one building.


End file.
